The doorknob turned so slowly I heard every metal click inside the lock. A soft scrape. Then another. Each tiny sound hit harder than any shout would have. My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
Addison's nails dug into my wrist as she shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Don't breathe," she whispered, barely moving her lips. "Don't move."
I didn't. I couldn't. My body locked up on instinct.
The cottage fell silent. Completely silent. Even the trees outside seemed to stop swaying as if the whole forest had paused to listen.
The doorknob twitched again.
Then again.
Each tiny movement felt wrong—like something on the other side didn't understand how a door worked but was learning.
The metal clicked a final time.
But the door didn't open.
The lock held.
The thing outside let out a low growl. Not loud. Not angry. A thoughtful sound, almost curious. As if it was studying the barrier between itself and us.
Addison squeezed her eyes shut. I didn't. My gaze stayed glued to the door handle as it shifted under unseen fingers.
Or claws.
The handle turned halfway…
…stopped…
…then released.
Silence dropped again.
I counted the seconds in my head.
One.
Two.
Three—
A heavy thud hit the door, rattling the hinges so hard dust drifted down from the ceiling.
I gasped before I could stop myself.
Addison slapped a hand over my mouth.
Another thud. Harder. The whole frame shook.
The thing was testing the wood. Testing the strength. Testing how much force it needed to splinter through.
Addison dragged me backward, step by slow step, toward the hallway. I kept my eyes locked on the back door, terrified to turn my back on it. The cottage felt too small, too fragile, like it would fold in on us if the creature pushed harder.
Another thud.
The door bowed inward.
The wood groaned.
A crack split across the center.
Addison whimpered behind her hand.
The creature outside went still again—listening. Waiting. It almost felt intelligent. Like it knew we were inside and wanted to savor our fear.
A soft scrape followed, like claws trailing across the door from top to bottom. Slow. Deliberate.
A warning.
A promise.
A message.
My breath hitched.
Addison tugged me harder. "We have to get away from that door," she whispered.
I finally tore my gaze away and followed her down the hall, the floorboards creaking under our weight. Each step felt too loud. Too risky. I expected the creature to burst through the door at any second.
We reached the tiny bathroom at the end of the hallway. Addison ushered me inside and closed the door quietly, locking it even though we both knew it wouldn't stop anything that could dent a thick wooden door with a single hit.
She leaned against the wall, pressing a shaking hand to her chest. "Oh gods… oh gods…"
I swallowed hard. "What was that?"
She didn't answer.
"Addison," I repeated, voice trembling. "What was that?"
Her eyes glistened. "You don't want to know."
"That's not an answer. You told me the woods aren't safe, that I'd been claimed, that something hunts—"
"I know what I said," she cut in sharply, then lowered her voice. "But saying the name out loud… it listens. It learns. And you never say its name inside a home you want to survive."
I stared at her. "It has a name?"
She nodded.
I waited.
She shook her head. "I'm not saying it."
"What is it?" I whispered.
"A mistake," she said softly. "A punishment. Something our Alpha swore was dead."
Alpha again. That word echoed in my mind the same way it had earlier. Addison spoke about the pack and the Alpha like they were ordinary things. Common. Expected. Not metaphors.
Almost like she meant them literally.
Before I could ask, the sound of heavy steps on the porch returned. Slow. Heavier than before. Moving across the boards, pacing, as if the creature was measuring the structure. Learning its weak points.
Addison flinched with each creak of wood.
I grabbed her arm gently. "Addison… look at me."
She did.
"What is going on?"
She shook her head. "I can't—"
"But you have to. I'm alone out here. Nobody will tell me the truth. John gave me half-warnings, the sheriff lied to my face, and now you show up talking about packs and claiming and rules—"
Her jaw clenched. "John came here last night?"
"Yes."
She cursed under her breath. "Of course he did. He always shows up when the Ridge starts acting strange."
"So he knows what that thing is?"
She nodded once.
"And you?"
Another nod.
"Then tell me," I said, edging closer, voice dropping. "Please."
Her eyes darted to the bathroom door as if the creature could hear through walls. "Not here. Not now. It's too close."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she shook her head firmly.
"Shh."
A heavy thump came from the hallway—right outside the bathroom.
Addison slapped her hand over my mouth again. I froze.
The creature had moved.
Inside the house?
No.
No, the door wasn't broken.
We would've heard it.
But something dragged across the outer wall, slow and deliberate, like it was circling the cottage again. The bathroom vibrated under the weight of it.
Addison leaned in and whispered barely audible words against my ear, so soft I almost didn't catch them:
"You were marked."
A chill ran through me.
"And once it marks you," she continued, breath shaky, "it doesn't stop."
The dragging stopped.
Silence again.
We waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Twenty.
Then—footsteps.
Retreating.
Moving away from the cottage.
Heavy at first… then lighter… then gone entirely.
Addison's whole body slumped in relief. Her legs gave out and she slid down the wall, covering her face with both hands.
I crouched in front of her. "Is it gone?"
She shook her head. "Not gone. Just leaving. For now. But it'll be back. It always comes back once it marks someone."
"Why me?" I whispered, frustrated. Scared. Angry.
Addison looked up at me with wide, honest eyes. "I don't think it chose you. I think someone made it choose you."
That implication hit me hard. "Someone? Who would—"
A sudden banging on the front door cut us both off.
Three hard pounds.
Human pounds.
Addison jolted upright. "Don't open it!"
But something inside me knew who it was.
The rhythm of the pounding.
The force.
The urgency.
It wasn't the creature.
It was John.
"Stay here," I whispered.
Addison caught my wrist. "No—don't be stupid—"
But I pulled free and rushed down the hallway.
The banging came again.
"Open the door!" John's voice yelled.
I grabbed the lock with shaking fingers and opened it.
John burst inside before the door was even fully open. He slammed it shut behind him and bolted it with one fluid motion.
His chest rose and fell like he had sprinted through the woods. His eyes were wild.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"A lot," I breathed. "Something came to the door. Something huge. It tried to break in."
He closed the distance between us in seconds. "Did it touch you?"
"What? No—"
"Did it speak to you?"
"John, what do you mean—"
"Did it get inside?"
"No!"
He exhaled sharply, like my answers kept him from falling apart. His hands gripped my shoulders, holding tight but not hurting. "Good. Good. You need to leave this house."
Addison stepped into the hallway. "Leave? And go where?"
John's jaw tightened when he saw her. "You shouldn't be here."
"Too late," she snapped. "It was already outside when I got here."
His face darkened. "You brought her?"
Addison glared. "I saved her."
John's voice dropped low. "No. You just made her a witness."
"To what?" I demanded.
They both looked at me.
Then at each other.
Addison shook her head. "Don't tell her. Not yet."
"She deserves the truth," John said through clenched teeth. "That thing won't stop until—"
A thunderous crash shook the front porch.
Not the back.
The front.
The three of us whipped toward the window.
A heavy shadow passed across it.
Addison's breath caught.
John cursed under his breath and stepped in front of me.
Another crash.
The porch boards splintered.
Whatever had left the back of the house…
…had circled around.
And it was done waiting.
John turned to me, voice deadly serious.
"When I say run, you run."
Before I could respond—
The front door bowed inward, wood cracking like bone.
A clawed hand—massive, black, and wrong-shaped—punched through the center of the door…
…and reached for me.